Tag: Jesus

Second Sunday of Christmas: The Mystery of the Incarnation (John 1:1-18)

Here’s this week’s video devotions, followed by the text of the talk.

Seasoned Methodists may wonder why this isn’t a Covenant Service on the first Sunday of the New Year. Both my churches are in Tier 4 and have chosen to close for gathered worship, and I’d rather keep the Covenant Service until we can renew our commitment to Christ face to face with each other. Besides, it’s a long and complex service, and these video devotions need to be shorter than the usual act of worship.

However, if you’d like a Covenant Service sermon, you can search this blog and find quite a few.

John 1:1-18

The Christmas decorations came down earlier in our house this year. The tree was in the place where Debbie had had her home office set up for working from home during the pandemic, so things had to be put back to normal sooner than usual.

Nevertheless, I still want to wish you Happy Christmas, because we’re still in the Christmas season, according to the rhythms of the Church. And of course, I also want to wish you Happy New Year – a happier year than last year, I pray.

Our famous reading from John chapter 1 is known as the Prologue to John’s Gospel. Sometimes, when it is read at carol services or in the Christmas season, the reader will introduce it with words such as, ‘The mystery of the Incarnation.’

Of course, it’s about more than the Incarnation, but for these thoughts I’m going to pick out three themes that John relates here to the Incarnation.

Those themes are light, glory, and grace and truth (which are a pair that go together).

Firstly, light.

John talks about Jesus as being the light of all (verse 4) and the light in the darkness (verse 5) even before his birth. Then, after John the Baptist witnesses to the light (verses 6-8) Jesus the light comes into the world (verse 9) but he is neither recognised (verse 10) or received (verse 11) except by a few (verse 12), and they become children of God (verses 12-13).

Strange, isn’t it? The people that were walking in darkness had seen a great light and yet few recognised and received that light. For Israel, it was the darkness of occupation by Rome. But perhaps they didn’t receive the light because it came in a form they didn’t recognise or indeed want. They wanted the darkness dealt with in a different way.

We may battle with different forms of darkness, but the danger is the same for us. We have our fixed ideas about what God should do about the darkness and how. When he doesn’t deliver, then some people stop believing in him. But of course what they’ve done is find that their own picture of God is faulty.

For what Jesus shows us about the light is he hasn’t come just to banish darkness with a click of his fingers and the flick of a switch, but rather by walking into the depths of darkness and shining his light there. That’s what ties together the Incarnation and the Cross. It’s what his whole life is about.

I recently read an article entitled ‘4 Myths Christians Should Stop Believing About Depression’, written by a professional Christian counsellor who has herself suffered from depression. If ever something is an experience of darkness, depression is.

And one of the most telling statements in the piece for me was this sentence:

Depression has nothing to do with lack of faith, in fact, for me—it has been the catalyst for even deeper faith. Because some days, in the hardest moments, faith was the only thing I had.

Do you see? She found Jesus, the light, in her darkness. That’s where he was.

In 1983, fifteen years before the Good Friday Agreement, a book was published about Christian reconciliation work in the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It was called ‘The Darkness Where God Is’. That’s how Jesus is the light in the Incarnation. He comes to be light in the darkness.

So when we encounter darkness, let’s look for Jesus there.

Secondly, glory.

Just as Jesus brings the light of God in an unexpected way, so also he shows the glory of God in an unforeseen manner. Verse 14:

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

We see his glory through the fact that ‘The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.’

How would a Roman emperor have shown his glory? In the majesty of his court and the humiliation of his enemies.

How does the Son of God display his glory? Paradoxically, by leaving it all behind in heaven. He comes into a poor family and lives among the poor. ‘Emptied himself of all but love,’ as Charles Wesley put it.

Or as recorded in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus put it this way: ‘The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.’

That is the glory of God. Putting aside status to live humbly, serve, and give up his life for the salvation of the world.

Those who are impressed by shallow things and shiny trinkets will never see such glory and will miss their way to the kingdom of God. But for those who have eyes to see, this is God’s glory, the shining of his splendour.

How might the world see the glory of Jesus today, then? When his people decide that hob-nobbing with the rich and powerful is not the way to go, and choose instead to serve the poor, the last, and the least. As one Internet meme puts it:

Want to put Christ back into Christmas? Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, forgive the guilty, welcome the unwanted, care for the ill, love your enemies, and do unto others as you would have done unto you.

That was what Jesus came to do. That is how his glory was seen. It’s really quite straightforward for us to do the same. Isn’t it?

Thirdly and finally, grace and truth.

We just read that Jesus ‘came from the Father, full of grace and truth’ (verse 14). John goes on to tell us that in doing so, he brings ‘grace in place of grace already given’ (verse 16) and that whereas Moses brought the law, Jesus brought grace and truth (verse 17).

In the Old Testament, God is shown to be a God of grace, not least when he saves the Israelites from Egypt and Pharaoh. He then gives Israel his law to keep as a response to that grace and as a sign that they are the People of God. God continues to show grace to his people, even when their sin and rebellion require discipline and punishment. Jesus comes to bring grace on top of all this grace. He brings not only grace, but truth.

So the Incarnation of Jesus says this to us: just when you thought God could not be more gracious, he sends his Son to show grace in person. Now his grace saves us not simply from other people’s wickedness but from ourselves, for our sins would have cut us off from God eternally. It’s a grace that goes all the way from the manger to the Cross.

John is telling us that Jesus was born into this world on a mission of mercy. It is those who recognise their need of mercy who find fulness of life and a place in his family. Those who consider themselves good, decent, upright, upstanding members of society will never see Jesus for who he is. Only those like the publican in the Temple staying at a distance praying, ‘Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner’ understand the Christmas story.

And if we are to live the Christmas story ourselves today, we need to be people who speak about God’s grace and who demonstrate God’s grace. Who needs to hear about a God of grace and mercy? Who will only understand that if his people today show grace and mercy in their actions?

Can we think of one person who would be set free from their personal prison if they knew about a God of grace?

Can we think of one person to whom we need to show grace and mercy?

To conclude, the revelation of Jesus as bringing light, glory, grace and truth at the Incarnation is wonderful, but it is also challenging, because there are implications for us.

The Christmas story encourages us to find the light of Christ in the midst of our darkness.

The Christmas story challenges us to show the glory of Christ not in conquest and arrogance but in humble service.

And the Christmas story calls us to embrace the message of grace for ourselves and spread it by speaking of grace to others and showing grace to those who need it.

The Christmas season may be about to end, but there is no reason for its message to fade away.

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Video sermon And Text: Active Patience (Second Sunday Of Advent)

This week, having realised that the copyright fears that led me not to post my videos these last couple of weeks were groundless, I’m going to give you both the video and the text of my talk.

2 Peter 3:8-15

In my teens, one of my favourite pop songs was ‘I’m Not In Love’ by 10cc. It was cleverly arranged and produced, and it had wry and touching lyrics that even clicked with a fifteen-year-old.

However, I heard both the single version and the album version on the radio. The single was a four-minute butchered edit of the full six-minute album track, and so I saved my pocket money to buy the album.

The album – ‘The Original Soundtrack’ – also contained much darker material, not least a song called ‘The Second Sitting For The Last Supper’ in which the band mocked the Christian hope of Christ appearing again in glory.

Two thousand years and he ain’t come  yet
We kept his seat warm and the table set
The second sitting for the Last Supper

It’s a hope for which many people mock us. It’s a hope with which numerous Christians struggle.

Perhaps sometimes it touches on those never-quite-disappeared childhood traits, remembering the times as little ones that we sat in the car while our parents drove, and within five minutes were asking, ‘Are we there yet?’

The third chapter of 2 Peter can give us help in understanding God’s purposes and responding appropriately. What these verses tell us is that when we understand God better, we shall also understand better how to live.

So firstly, understanding God better:

8 But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.

This verse, which takes some words from a psalm, tells us two things about God which get taken up in the next two verses. If a thousand years are like a day to the Lord, then he acts over a long period of time. But if the reverse is also true, that a day is like a thousand years, then God also acts suddenly and quickly.[1]

We see the long-term patience in verse 9:

9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

The slow – to our eyes – acting of God is a mercy to the human race. He doesn’t want to wrap things up without people having a full opportunity to repent and put their faith in his Son, Jesus.

So if someone mocks us as Christians for the fact that Jesus has not returned, we can remind them that he is hanging back to give them the chance to hand over their lives to him. ‘Why hasn’t he come?’ we might reply. ‘Because he’s waiting for you.’

They may or may not appreciate that answer! But it is consistent with the merciful and gracious character of God. The offer of salvation is not a quick, instant, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it event. It is there on the table and stays on the table even for the most recalcitrant of sinners.

God is patient. Jesus hasn’t forgotten to come again, because he hasn’t forgotten the sinners he loves.

But as well as the long-term patience of God there is also his ability to act suddenly and quickly. Verse 10:

10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare.

God may be patient, but he will not suffer mocking. He will ‘come like a thief’. Christ appearing again ‘like a thief [In the night]’ is a common New Testament image for his return in glory. No-one expects that a thief is coming: you need to be prepared in order to avoid suffering loss.

It’s no good, then, having a casual attitude to God which says, ‘I’ll live just how I like, and then I’ll repent at my leisure on my deathbed.’ That is to treat a patient and merciful God with contempt, and to forget that he is also holy.

And – although in some cases it can be emotional manipulation – the old line of the evangelists that asked, ‘If you were to be hit by a bus tonight, do you know what would happen to you eternally?’ makes a good point to those who would be casual with God and disregard the fact that he can act suddenly and quickly.

So I think we can put these two apparently contradictory elements of God’s character together and see where that leaves us with our Advent hope. God is patient, because he longs for everyone to repent. Yet he will not be mocked by those who treat him casually, and one day he will come both suddenly and quickly. He will even do that before the end in individual people’s lives.

Therefore secondly, we look at understanding better how to live:

Just as there were two elements to understanding God better, so there are two corresponding ways to live in the light of that as we await our Advent hope of Christ’s appearing again in glory.

In response to God’s sudden and quick action, not least in his glorious return, we read verses 11 to 13:

11 Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives 12 as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. 13 But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells.

Forty years ago, I went to Spring Harvest for the first time. On the first evening, a preacher named Stuart Briscoe said that he believed in 2 Peter 3 when he saw the atomic bomb fall on Hiroshima. Then he knew it was possible for the heavens to be destroyed by fire and the elements to melt in the heat (verse 12).

But we do this a dis-service if we think that Christ’s sudden and speedy return is only about destruction. For we go on to read of the hope expressed elsewhere in the New Testament, not least by Paul in his letters and John in Revelation, that Christ’s goal is to bring ‘a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells’ (verse 13).

This is why Christ will come again in glory: to bring a new creation, where righteousness dwells.

And so the way to live in the light of that is to live in righteousness now. Christ calls us to live now as a sign of his new world that is coming. Live according to the new creation, not the surrounding culture.

What would it mean to live in righteousness now? Well, the English word ‘righteousness’ might be a little misleading here. Often we take it just to refer to matters of personal morality. But the Greek word means not only personal righteousness but social righteousness – justice, if you will – as well.

So our personal moral conduct needs to come more closely in line with what Jesus calls it to be. But so do our actions in society.

Abraham Kuyper was a Dutch Christian theologian and politician – in fact, he became Prime Minister. He put it this way:

‘There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, Mine!’

Is there any part of our lives where we don’t want Christ to cry, ‘Mine!’?

And then there is the way we live in response to the patience of Christ. This comes at the end of the reading:

14 So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him. 15 Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote to you with the wisdom that God gave him.

‘Our Lord’s patience means salvation.’ As we saw earlier, that patience means salvation in the opportunity for repentance, and so another way we live in the light of Christ’s coming is to offer the Gospel.

But it’s also the climax of our own salvation. For our salvation is not just the forgiveness of our sins through the Cross, it is also the transformation of sinful lives by the Holy Spirit into those that live righteously as we’ve just been saying.

And it is also that our salvation will be completed when Christ appears in glory. For when righteousness dwells, sin will be abolished. Peace will reign. All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well, as Mother Julian of Norwich said. This is part of our great hope.

To conclude – Christ’s appearing in glory seems to be a long time coming, but it is because God is patient. The chance is there for repentance, and the Church must announce that.

But Christ will still come suddenly and quickly. Let us be prepared by living according to the pattern of his great future.

[1] My understanding of these two contrasting elements is owed to Ben Witherington III, Letters and Homilies for Hellenized Christians Volume II, pp376-8.

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Sermon: The Sheep And The Goats Revisited

There is no video version of the sermon this week, and probably no more video before Christmas. I’ve begun a series that uses some copyright material I’ve bought but I think I would infringe that copyright if I shared it here.

So it’s back to the old ways and a text-only version of the sermon this weekend.

I might be able to separate out my talk and just post that part of the video, I’m not sure (I’ll need to check what my WordPress account allows.) But I can’t do that this week, as I’d deleted that video before thinking of that possibility!

Anyway – here is what I hope to be a fresh take on Jesus’s story about the sheep and the goats.

Matthew 25:31-46

This is one of those passages where we think we know what it means, but the popularly accepted meaning is a bit off-kilter.

We’re used to hearing that this is about how at the end of time Jesus will judge everyone on the basis of their treatment of those in need, and that this is important because Jesus is present in every human being.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of misconceptions in that summary, and the popular interpretation needs a fair bit of tweaking.

I’m not about to say that we’re going to be let off treating the poor and the suffering with dignity – nothing of the sort! – but just as your car may need tuning up and cleaning at its MOT and annual service, so there are some things to clear away and see better in this story.[i]

Firstly, let’s not call this a parable. This isn’t the most important point I’m going to make, but just to clear this up at the outset: we often call this ‘the parable of the sheep and the goats’, but there is no parable language here. Jesus’ characteristic expression, ‘The kingdom of God/heaven is like …’ is absent. There is nothing ambiguous here about the meaning. The meaning is not hidden from the hearers.

Some writers have called this a ‘vision’. What we can be sure of is it’s not a parable. For simplicity, I’ll call it a ‘story’.

Secondly, when is this happening? We are used to saying that this is a scene of the Last Judgment. It’s certainly true that this leads to eternal consequences, for the story ends with the goats going away to eternal punishment and the sheep to eternal life (verse 46).

However, we also need to pay attention to the beginning of the story:

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. (Verse 31)

We have assumed that this means the Son of Man (Jesus) coming again. But this is language based on Daniel 7 where the exalted Son of Man comes not to earth but to the Ancient of Days (Almighty God). It is language not about the Second Coming but the Ascension. Jesus is already reigning from heaven.

You may think that is just a technicality, but it has an important application. Yes, there are eternal consequences to people’s actions, but know that even at this moment Jesus is watching and judging. The Last Judgment is merely the climax of the judging Jesus is doing even now.

So that means – well, what specifically? Hang on while we clean up a few more parts of the story, and eventually we’ll have a fuller picture.

Thirdly, who is being judged?

All the nations will be gathered before him (verse 32a)

We assume from an expression like ‘all the nations’ that this means everybody. This is how everyone will be judged.

But not so fast. ‘The nations’, or ta ethne in the Greek, is a technical expression. The Greek translates from Hebrew the way in which Jews talked about everyone who was not part of Israel. It’s close to saying, ‘The Gentiles.’

That would mean that here we have in view how Jesus will judge those who are not part of the People of God. And when we put that in the context of Jesus’ whole teaching, it would mean not so much ‘The Gentiles’, that is, all non-Jews, but rather, those who are not a part of his reconstituted Israel, namely, his disciples.

If that is true, then this story is about how Jesus judges those who are not his disciples.

How is he going to judge them? Let’s keep going, and things will become clearer.

Fourthly, who are ‘The least of these brothers and sisters of mine’? We have commonly taken ‘The least of these’ to mean all the global poor and suffering.

But that is to wrench these words out of the context of Matthew’s Gospel. For this is an expression Jesus uses more than once to refer to his disciples. He expects that his followers will end up as hungry, thirsty, strangers, naked, ill, and imprisoned. He has a lot to say about the cost of discipleship.

If you doubt that, come back from here, which is the climax of the fifth and final teaching block in Matthew’s Gospel, to the beginning of the first teaching block, namely the Sermon on the Mount. There, where Jesus addresses his disciples, he describes them in the Beatitudes as poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungering and thirsting for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, and persecuted. (Matthew 5:1-12)

The way of Jesus is not easy. It has a price.

Hence, when Jesus says to the sheep,

Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. (verse 40)

he is saying, ‘you did this to my people’. That’s what ‘you did for me’ means – not that Jesus lives in all human beings, but that he is with his people.

So the nations here are being judged by how they treat the disciples of Jesus.

It’s consistent with what Jesus says elsewhere in Matthew’s Gospel:

And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward. (Matthew 10:42)

Of course, it all rather assumes that we Christians are actually living as disciples of Jesus, proclaiming the kingdom of God, calling people to repentance, ministering to the sick, the demonised, the poor, and so on. The nations are being judged on how they respond when they see the People of Jesus living like that.

This is not about whether the Church is accorded political privilege. It is not about Western Christians rushing to scream ‘Persecution!’ the moment we don’t get our way. Nor is it about the world legitimately criticising the Church when she has done wrong, such as with child-abusing clergy and officers.

The point is: when Christians act like Christ, how do the nations respond? Because Jesus is watching and judging.

…

Right, I think we’ve tuned up our understanding of the passage now. Where does this leave us?

We have a picture where the Last Judgment has begun, even now. Jesus is watching and judging from his heavenly throne. What people do now will seal their fate for eternity.

The story emphasises how he is watching those outside his disciples for how those nations treat his followers. Perhaps these include those who – despite, perhaps encountering Christians – never really hear the good news. They will be judged on the light they have received, seen in how they respond the disciples of Jesus.

We can be sure that Jesus is watching as China under President Xi arrests and unjustly imprisons Christians. He is doing the same as North Korea persecutes and often kills Christians. He is watching as the Iranian regime locks up Christians, and as Christians in Pakistan are subjected to spurious charges of blasphemy against Islam, while Imran Khan’s government does nothing. However much these nations get away with their violence now, Jesus is sealing eternal judgment for them at this very moment, if they do not repent.

But Jesus is also blessing those who stand up for his people, especially the suffering church. And on this front, it is worth us praying and campaigning that Boris Johnson will replace Rehman Chishti MP, who resigned as his Special Envoy on Freedom of Religion or Belief in September. So far, there is no known movement. Under Theresa May’s premiership, her Foreign Secretary Jeremy Hunt received the Mountstephen Report on the persecution of Christians and started to act on it. How will Jesus judge our nation?

All that said, although there is a specific focus of this story, that doesn’t mean I’m saying Christians don’t have to care for the poor. There are plenty of Bible passages to make it clear that’s a priority for us. What I’m saying today isn’t a ‘Get out of jail free’ card on that one.

In our case, Jesus calls us into his kingdom through repentance and faith in him, based on his work at the Cross. Then, having received his free grace, we respond in gratitude by aligning our lives more closely with his kingdom. And that includes our care for the poor, the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, and the imprisoned.

So even as we learn that Jesus has a way of judging those who are not part of his people, it is also worth us reflecting on whether we are showing our gratitude for the love of Christ by living in his kingdom ways, giving prime concern to the last and the least.

[i] My sources this week include Michael Green, Matthew For Today; Tom Wright, Matthew For Everyone Volume 2; G R Beasley-Murray, Jesus and the Kingdom of God; Ian Paul, The ‘parable’ of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25.

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Video Sermon: What Is Your Verdict On God? (Joshua 24:1-28)

We’re jumping from Joshua 3 a week ago to the final chapter today. Why? I suspect it’s because many people are uncomfortable with the Book of Joshua.

I offer some brief responses to those concerns in this video, and then I go on to the way in which Joshua prosecutes for a verdict from Israel in favour of renewing their covenant with God.

Joshua 24:1-28

Finally, there are some prayers for Remembrance Sunday.

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Treasure in Dark Places: Interview with Liz Carter

Two years ago, I read Liz Carter‘s stunning and challenging book ‘Catching Contentment: How to be Holy Satisfied‘. Her insights into finding peace and joy in God with no help from life circumstances made it my book of the year. It found an instant place in a collection of books I dub my ‘Pastoral First Aid Kit.’

Now Liz is back with a new title, ‘Treasure in Dark Places: Stories and Poems of Hope in the Hurting‘. Written mainly during lockdown and enforced shielding, and my copy arrived on publication day, last Saturday.

I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing Liz by email about her life situation and her writing. Enjoy.

Tell us a bit about yourself.

I live in Shropshire with my husband Tim, a vicar, and my two young adult children. I’ve been writing for most of my life – from a young age I knew it was what I wanted to do.

How long and in what ways has chronic illness affected your life?

I’ve been ill since infancy with a rare lung disease. I was the sickly child, the one always missing school. The disease is degenerative, so over years has taken more room in my life than I would wish. As a youngster I often felt different; a weakling, an object of scorn when I struggled once again in a PE lesson, someone who simply wasn’t trying hard enough, according to some of my reports. As an adult my illness arrested a teaching career after only five years, leaving me unable to work outside the home at a fairly young age. I was left feeling as if I had nothing to give, as if I was a failure, at life and at faith – surely, I thought (and some people said), I should have been healed, by now? I’d had enough prayer for healing through my lifetime – but it hadn’t happened. I’d only got sicker. Nowadays, I am often hospitalised with pneumonia, and struggle with multiple infections a year, leaving me in a constant state of fatigue and often breathlessness and pain.

Self-isolation during the COVID-19 lockdown must have been distressing. What was it like for you, and what got you through it?

When I received the shielding letter in March I was shocked and fearful. The words haunted me: I had been identified as someone at risk of severe illness if I caught the virus. I had to go into extreme shielding, away from my family, cut off in my room. I did not hug another human being for almost five months, and it was tough. I thought at first I would be okay with it, being used to some periods of isolation due to the infections I catch. But I wasn’t really okay at all, I found. Days were long and nights were sleepless, I was sad and I was scared. I’d been writing a book I thought I would finish, but the words stopped coming. I knew I needed to stop, to allow myself to admit this experience was painful, to sit within it a while. As I did so I found other words beginning to flow; words of honest poetry and re-imaginings of encounters with Jesus, words that took me closer into the depths of God when my own depths seemed fathomless. As I wrote, I found that God’s depths were even deeper still, and more than that, God was abiding there in those depths with me, holding me, in a way no other could.

Your first book, ‘Catching Contentment’, was about being content in Christ regardless of whether someone’s life circumstances were favourable. How did you first learn that for yourself?

To be honest, I’m still learning it – definitely a work-in-progress! It’s been a long journey over years, but the last few years in particular has led me to a greater peace in who I am and my situation, as I’ve delved deeper into what the Bible says about contentment – and how it doesn’t promise a pain-free life for those who follow Jesus. I loved reading more deeply around the words of St Paul, who said he’d found the secret to contentment, and wrote so profoundly of the truths he had discovered, of dying to self and rejoicing in all circumstances, of setting his mind on Jesus and living in the glorious hope we have been given. The more I read of scripture the more I can catch hold of the contentment not found in my wholeness, but in God’s holiness.

In your new book, ‘Treasure In Dark Places’, you are also tackling the question of suffering, but using other modes of creativity, such as poetry. How did you decide to approach this important theme from such a different angle?

I think that sometimes it’s difficult to capture something of the depths of pain and the breadth of hope in prose alone. The book of Psalms is my favourite book of the Bible because it expresses in such beautiful poetry something of the truth of who God is and how God loves, and I think that we need such forms today, as well. Often words of poetry will resonate and comfort deeper places where other words might not reach.

Can you share a short piece from ‘Treasure In Dark Places’ with us, please?

Yes, of course!

I wrote this one early on in the pandemic, when there was much talk of how the vulnerable and shielded would be placed at the bottom of the list for treatment when healthcare became overwhelmed. It was a response born of emotion but also of lament for all those who are suffering through illness or disability, and have been made to feel lesser in these times:

#SHIELDED

So what am I worth

in this scourge of the earth

it seems I am cursed

as my body is worse

than the young and the fit

I’m a number, an it

I know I’d be missed

but I’m on The List

condemned in a letter

until the earth’s better

I’m measured as less

in infirmity’s mess

But my value’s in more

than my CFS score

worth beyond age

or words on a page

more than a look

at lines in a book

a flawed reflection

of holy perfection

a new creation

of glory’s narration

loved beyond measure

in deep sacred treasure.

You’ve written these books despite the tremendous difficulties of your personal circumstances. Are people with chronic illness undervalued by the church, and if so what can we do to put that right?

Sometimes, yes, I’m afraid so. The undervaluing is expressed in 3 different ways, in general:

1. Sick people who have not been healed do not show enough faith, and therefore we should invest more in those who do.

2. People with chronic illnesses often cannot come to church, or to meetings, or can be ‘flaky’ and drop out far too often, therefore can be difficult to involve fully in the life of the church.

3. People who are long-term ill can be incredibly inspirational and brave, but we shouldn’t ask them to do anything because they probably don’t have enough energy.

All of these make assumptions: unless we are asked, we do not have the choice to say yes or no. Unless we are invited, we cannot grow into the calling God has upon us – for ministry, or hospitality, or anything else. Unless reasonable adjustments are made for our mobility needs and also for the fact that we do ‘flake out’ a lot, we are left on the edges, looking in to where it’s all happening without us.

I think that the pandemic has exposed something of this and many churches have responded so well, offering more and more content online to those who are housebound, and involving these people in leadership more. Churches will do well to keep up online worship when everyone else goes back to normal and sick people are left back in their isolation – I’m so glad my own church is being very pro-active about doing this.

With regards to those churches who assume lack of faith, that’s a simple case of re-examining some of the theology and bringing more compassion and understanding to the table. I’d love to see more of that!

Do you have any particular words of hope or encouragement for others who, like you, are enduring chronic illness or a life-limiting condition?

I find such great hope and glimpses of light when I reflect upon Jesus’ own life, suffering, death and resurrection. The more I think upon it, the more I am amazed at his outrageous and astonishing love for me, and the more this hope shines through the darkness. I would also want to add that it’s okay to release yourself from the bonds of feeling as though you have let God – or others – down, by continuing to be ill, whether physically or mentally. We must find space to be honest before God and others, to share our lament and our sorrow, and it’s in that place of honesty God so often does his redemptive work in our lives.

What is the main message of ‘Treasure in Dark Places’ and who should buy it?

Treasure in Dark Places is a collection of poetry and short stories that point towards hope, especially when it hurts. Its message is a reminder of God’s grace, love and supernatural peace, and a call towards the heart of God, to encounter more of God in our own depths and to lay out our own pain in candour and relief, as God meets us within our own dark places. It’s for everyone who sometimes finds life tough going – not only for those who live with illness, but for people who struggle in any way – I think that’s all of us, really.

Thank you so much, Liz.

I warmly encourage you to buy Liz’s books, Treasure in Dark Places and Catching Contentment.

You can also follow her blog and her YouTube channel.

Finally, here’s another poem from Treasure in Dark Places:

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Video Sermon: How Do We Understand The Presence Of God?

Continuing with the story of Moses and the Israelites, this week we arrive at Exodus 33:12-23.

However, rather than explore this story, I’m taking up one important theme in it – the presence of God – and giving a sketch of that subject as it appears through Scripture.

I hope you find these thoughts helpful in your own life.

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Talk: People At The Cross – Caiaphas

All Age Caiaphas Talks 110327

Click the link above to see the two short talks I am giving this Sunday about the rôle of Caiaphas in the death of Jesus. The first talk (slides 1 to 11) is based on John 11:45-53, where Jesus is seen as a threat to the privileged status of the religious ruling classes in their cosy relationship with Rome. The second talk (slides 12 to 17) comes from Matthew 26:47, 57-66 where at the trial Jesus’ confession of deity (‘Son of Man’) leads to a display of misplaced religious zeal. So it all religious zeal wrong, or is there a better way?

The talks are necessarily short, coming as part of all age worship, and on a Sunday when we are holding our AGM after the service. I am well aware there is much more that could be said.

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Baptism Sermon: Anticipating The Future

Acts 2:38-39

Many of us will have heard all sorts of stories about baptism. A friend of mine, when he was an Anglican curate, really did baptise the wrong end of a baby! Me, I just worry about the baby grabbing the radio microphone – or, worse, my glasses. Or there’s the story of the minister telling the congregation before a baptism, “The water isn’t anything special or magic, it’s the same water we’ll use later for making the coffee.”

But what, in all seriousness, shall we say about baptism today on Holly’s big day? Early in the baptismal service, I read two passages from the New Testament. The second was from Acts chapter 2. I prefaced it with these words:

‘On the day of Pentecost, Peter preached the Gospel of Christ’s resurrection. Those who heard the message asked what they should do. Peter told them:’ (Methodist Worship Book, p89)

And then I read what he said:

‘Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him.’ (Acts 2:38-39)

I want to say this is all about anticipating the future. We anticipate future events. For example, later in the year we shall be conscious that Christmas is coming, and will make our plans. We shall ask people what presents they would like, buy special food, make arrangements to see family and so on – all because we are anticipating a future event. We want to get ready.

When Peter preaches ‘the Gospel of Christ’s resurrection’ he’s using that to make people think of the future. The resurrection of Jesus is a sign of the future, when God will raise everyone from the dead and he will reign unopposed over all creation. And what Peter calls his hearers to do is anticipate that future. In what ways?

Repent
Last Sunday morning I asked people how good their French was. It’s similar with the word ‘repent’. ‘Re’ means ‘again’ and ‘pent’ is from penser, ‘to think’ – like our word ‘pensive’. So to repent is to think again, and that’s what the New Testament Greek word translated here means, too. When Peter calls the crowd to repent, he’s telling them ‘think again’ – about the way you live your life, and change where needed.

I used to preach at a church that was on the ‘wrong’ side of a dual carriageway from the direction in which I lived. Every time I took a service there, I drove beyond it on my side of the road, to the next traffic light junction, where drivers were permitted to do a u-turn from the filter lane.

Repentance is like a u-turn. When we encounter Jesus, he makes us think again about the way we live our lives, and we do a u-turn in our lifestyle.

What does that have to do with anticipating the future? I think the point is this: when God raises us all from the dead, judges us and reigns without opposition, we need to be in line with his will. We need to start now – by doing a u-turn.

Be Baptized
Last month, every class from Broomfield Primary School came here during the week to look at our building and ask me questions. One of the things I showed them was the font. They were intrigued by our small, portable font, in contrast to the large stone font at St Mary’s.

We talked about what it meant. They knew we put water in the font, but not necessarily why. So I asked them what we use water for in everyday life. Some said for drinking, and I could have made something of that answer. But I concentrated on those who said that water was for cleaning ourselves. I tried to explain that the water in baptism is a symbol of God cleaning us from sin.

That’s what the symbolism of pouring water on Holly has been about today. It has been to show that God wants to clean us from every sin. Have you ever felt dirty inside after doing something wrong? God wants to remove that from us.

And it’s done, says Peter, ‘in the name of Jesus’, because these gifts come to us from God through Jesus, and especially his death on the Cross, where he died for our sins, in our place. That’s why we need faith in Jesus – to receive this cleansing from all our sins that are a barrier between ourselves and God.

What does this have to do with the future? It means that at the Last Judgment, God will – amazingly –deliver a verdict not that we are guilty but that we are in the right with him, all through Jesus.

And that leads onto the third element:

Forgiveness
I guess everybody knows that the central message of the Christian faith is about forgiveness. But what is forgiveness? Some people think it is pretending that a bad event didn’t happen. Others think it means excusing people’s actions, by explaining away their conduct. Others think it is about suppressing our anger when we have been wronged.

I don’t think it’s any of these things. True forgiveness looks the person in the wrong squarely in the eye, knowing where the blame lies, not excusing their actions, nor pretending we are not angry. But then, despite laying the blame where it rightly belongs, the one who forgives refuses to pass sentence on the wrongdoer.

And that is what God does for us in Jesus. He knows our actions are wrong, and he doesn’t pretend otherwise. He knows we are blameworthy, but he refuses to sentence us to what we deserve, which is life and eternity without him. He discards the sentence and invites us into his family, which we do but handing our lives over to him.

Again, this is about anticipating the future. Trust your life to Jesus Christ and follow him, and you need have no fear of God’s verdict on you, either now or in the future. He knows where we are in the wrong, but he refuses to pass sentence. In fact, the Greek word used for ‘forgive’ in the New Testament means ‘to set free’. We are like prisoners, expecting to be sentenced for our crimes. But instead, the Judge sets us free by forgiving us.

Our call, then, is to receive that by giving ourselves over to Jesus Christ, and then to set others free as we forgive what they have done to us.

The Holy Spirit
So far we’ve had two commands – ‘repent’ and ‘be baptized’, plus one promise ‘the forgiveness of sins’. 2-1 to commands, then. But finally, we have an equaliser from promises: all who repent, are baptized and receive the forgiveness of sins receive God’s own presence in their lives – the Holy Spirit. Why?

At the secondary school we attended in north London, my sister and I had an English teacher who worshipped at a high Anglican church in central London. My sister once asked him why he went there. “I’m just a terrible sinner and I need to feel forgiven,” he replied.

“Don’t you feel that God can change you?” my sister enquired.

“No,” he said.

But the Good News is that change is possible. It isn’t just that God forgives us and cleanses us. As the saying goes, God loves us just as we are, but he loves us too much to leave us as we are.

And that’s why Peter promises the Holy Spirit to those who become disciples of Jesus. So that not only may God forgive us in Jesus Christ, he may also start the long work of making us be more like Jesus Christ. In that sense, God is anticipating us for heaven. The Holy Spirit fits us for the life of God’s kingdom, where everything will conform to his will.

Conclusion
Two thoughts as I close. Firstly, I don’t want our regular churchgoers here to think this doesn’t apply to any of them. Remember that Peter addressed these words to devout religious Jews in Jerusalem for a major feast. Sometimes, those who have been involved in religion all their lives need to hear the call to conversion as much as anybody.

Secondly, what does any of this have to do with one-year-old Holly? She can’t repent, she can’t understand her baptism yet as washing her clean of sin, she can’t appreciate the forgiveness of sins, let alone the power of the Holy Spirit to live a new life.

But today, Ruth and Mike make the promises for her, on the basis of their own faith. They do so, because they aspire to Holly making this kind of commitment for herself, when she is old enough to do so. Today, we promise to pray and prepare so that becoming a disciple of Jesus one day seems the most natural thing in the world for Holly.

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Judgment

Matthew 25:31-46

There is one line from an early school report of mine that I remember: ‘David takes simple things and makes them complicated.’

You may recognise that trait in me even today! And I have to say there is an element of it sneaking into this sermon. The Vision of the Sheep and Goats, as George Beasley-Murray called it (first complication there – it’s not really a parable!) seems to be a piece of teaching by Jesus that is very simple. Do good to the poor and you’ll receive eternal life; ignore the poor and you’ll burn in Hell.

Simple, isn’t it? No.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not about to find the get-out clause that means we don’t have to care for the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick and the prisoner. But there are questions of detail that readers of this vision have asked. And as we explore them, we fill out more of the meaning.

In particular, we need to think about who ‘the nations’ are that are gathered before Jesus, the Son of Man at the judgment. And we also need to think about who ‘the least of these’ are, who may receive acts of mercy. In considering these two groups in the story, I hope we’ll answer some questions that have troubled sensitive Christians about this passage.

The Nations 
Who are ‘the nations’ in the story? Are they everyone in history? Are they people who have never heard the Gospel, given the surprised ‘Lord, when was it we saw you …?’ responses? Do they represent Christians, or possibly the Jewish people? And why does the question matter?

It matters, because it ties into the question of salvation. Are we saved by good works? What is the relationship between good works and salvation by faith in Christ? Does God have a different way of judging those who have never heard of Jesus – would that explain the surprise?

I’m not going to bore you with academic arguments, except to say that this story comes at the end of the fifth and final block of Jesus’ teaching that we find in Matthew’s Gospel. The first block was the Sermon on the Mount, and that set a theme for teaching about discipleship. All the teaching blocks are about discipleship in one way or another. This final block in chapters 24 and 25 focusses on questions about the end of all things. It fittingly climaxes here with a story about the Last Judgment.

So I do not think we can avoid the idea that Jesus is aiming this passage at those who claim to be his disciples. It fleshes out the statement in the Sermon on the Mount that not everyone who calls him ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only those who do the will of his Father. Obedience to the will of God is central and critical to Christian discipleship.

However, that raises the question I mentioned a moment ago. How does that thought sit with the teaching elsewhere in the New Testament that says we are justified in the sight of God not by our good works but by our faith in Jesus Christ? Doesn’t the sheep and goats story suggest that we are justified by good deeds?

To which I would reply that justification simply isn’t the issue here. The issue is one of identity: what does a disciple look like? And Jesus tells us here that a true disciple looks like someone who has compassion for the poor and needy – not just the deserving poor, but even the undeserving poor, because there is no hint that those in prison are in there for anything other than just reasons.

If we want to know whether we are progressing in discipleship, then the first test is not what dramatic spiritual experiences we have had. Nor is it whether we can muster a high score in a test of biblical and theological knowledge. Disciples are known by their actions for the sake of those in need. In his First Letter, John says that we cannot say the love of God lives in us if we see someone in need and fail to act. Such actions are the signs of true faith.

In that sense, it is connected to the question of justification, even though that is not Jesus’ particular concern here. It is rather like what Paul says in Galatians that faith works by love, and what James says in his Letter, when he maintains that those who are justified by faith show they truly are by their compassionate deeds of mercy.

So whether we care for people such as the hungry, thirsty, strangers, the naked, the sick and the prisoners is a test of true faith. Has God broken our hearts with the things that break his heart? And are we heartbroken enough to do something about it? This is a simple test of disciples’ obedience.

Nevertheless, we can probably extend this in a certain way to another question that is not Jesus’ primary concern in this passage. The question I have in mind is also one I mentioned earlier: how does God judge those who have never heard the Gospel? Some would argue that unless one actually hears the Gospel and responds, one is destined to damnation. It is a view that those who recognise other aspects of God’s character such as his mercy (as well as his judgment) find problematical.

And I suspect that the ‘Lord, when did we see you …?’ questions do give us a glimpse of how God would regard such people. Is it not the case that in Scripture God judges people according to how they respond to whatever light from him they receive? In Genesis, the priest Melchizedek appears out of nowhere and Abraham makes an offering to him – and God approves. Joshua is pleased to use the help of the Jericho prostitute Rahab. Isaiah 45 calls the pagan king Cyrus God’s anointed.

So might it just be that here in Matthew 25, we get an indirect view of how God will treat those who know that mercy to the poor and the weak is what matters? I can’t be certain, but I think it’s possible.

The Least Of These 
So the judgment of the nations makes us realise that compassion for the needy, whether they are ‘deserving’ or not, is a valid test of discipleship. It may also show a way in which God judges those who have never heard the Gospel.

But what about those described as ‘the least of these’ in the passage – namely, those who are hungry, thirsty, aliens, naked, sick or prisoners? Who are they? Some would argue they stand for anyone who is poor and in need in the world. Other say this expression ‘the least of these’ is similar to other terms Matthew uses in his Gospel to describe oppressed Christians or Christian missionaries facing hardship. There are some similarities of language, but they are not conclusive. In any case, if God only judges people on how they treat the Church, doesn’t that make God’s people into some narrow-minded sect, where it’s only what we receive (and not others) that counts?

So I suspect that the vulnerable people in need in this story, whom Jesus labels ‘the least of these’, stand for anyone in the world who may be suffering these or similar conditions. God does not simply call us to look after our own. Let’s assume, then, that God gives us a brief that covers the whole world in demonstrating his love to those in need.

But does the passage make an even larger claim than that? Some Christians think so. The first time I ever heard Tony Campolo speak, he told a story about a trip he paid to the Dominican Republic, where he witnessed terrible poverty. As he was about to board his plane back to the USA, a mother tried to give him her child. The child would stand a far better chance in terms of health, education and prospects in the States. Campolo felt he couldn’t. But as his plane accelerated down the runway, he could see the mother and child still there. On the basis of this passage, he had an awful realisation: he hadn’t left a child in the Dominican Republic, he had left Jesus there. ‘Just as you did [not do] to the least of these, you did [not do it] to me.’

Similarly, the great German theologian Jürgen Moltmann has invoked the old Latin phrase ubi Christi, ibi ecclesia: ‘where Christ is, there is the Church’ from this text. He takes it to mean that if whatever we do to the poor we do to Christ, then Christ is present in the poor.

So does this teach that Christ lives in the poor? Does Christ perhaps even live in everyone, rather like the Quaker belief that there is an inner light within all people?

No, I don’t think the passage means that. It is a very heightened metaphorical way of speaking that Jewish people employed. ‘This is my body’ and ‘This is my blood’ would be of the same order. ‘Just as you did to the least of these, it is as if you did it to me’ might be a paraphrase that brings this out. 

This, I think, would be more consistent with the rest of Scripture, which sees the Spirit of God as being directly involved in the creation of humankind but who only resides within people when they become disciples of Jesus. The idea that the divine is resident in all people is closer to the mystical beliefs of some New Age philosophies than Christianity. If we all have God within, there’s very little need for salvation.

Nevertheless, we still have incredibly strong reasons for serving all who are in need with the love of Christ.  We do not do it simply as robots obeying a command programmed by our Master. We do so, because when he, as the agent of God’s creation, and in partnership with the Holy Spirit, made the human race, he made them ‘in the image of God’. Our lives and relationships are meant to mirror something about God, and God’s love. 

There is no greater dignity anything in all creation has than to be made in God’s image. When the image-bearers of God are made to suffer, that is an attempt to obscure the image of God, and it is an affront to the God who made people with such a high status. Affording dignity, respect and healing to those who are suffering is about making the image of God more visible in creation. 

Conclusion 
So – it’s a clear test of discipleship whether we meet the practical needs of the poor and struggling. It may even be an indicator of how God judges those who have no genuine opportunity to hear the Gospel.  

Not only that, we have an imperative to do so, because all people are made in the image of God, however much it has been damaged by sin. That means our call to love and serve those in need cannot just be a paternalistic ‘doing good’ to those who passively, but gratefully, receive all the good things we have to give. It must also mean that in affirming their special dignity we give power back to those who have become powerless.

We may have had to take some complex diversions to arrive at these conclusions. You may well think that school teacher was right to say I am the sort of person who makes simple things complicated. At the end, however, we do come back to some simple challenges. We may not be able to meet all the needs that a satellite television and broadband Internet world flashes before our eyes. But we can ask ourselves this: what time, money and possessions have I given up in order to practise God’s love for the poor? 

My status as a disciple requires positive evidence in response to this question. So does my commitment to God’s revelation in Scripture. If I want to be a biblical disciple, then, I will know that I have responded to those who are suffering, and I continue to care for the suffering.

Can I answer yes?

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